Power is A Heady Brew
by tobifreakazoid
Summary: She caressed his cheek, colder than the touch of an Asgardian. She adored the feel of his magic. She, a primordial being older than this wretched realm, held power immeasurable. She burned with the strength of a thousand, thousand stars. But his was elegance. Subtle, but with undeniable power lying underneath. It was an art that he has made his own.


The night air held clarity. The cold was truth, harsh, unforgiving, judgeless, and infinitely beautiful. She was a daughter of the darkness; yet she couldn't quite grasp its true nature. She figured no one did. Some might claim to be the night's lover, but they would never truly own her. She was elusive, leaving mortals with only a glimpse of her majesty and mystery. She cradles them all dear.

She pulled the cloak tighter as it tries to billow free from her. The view from the Asgardian royal towers had never failed to take her breath away. Such a shame that the people were the exact opposite. Brash brutes, ruthless, graceless. They were mongers of war, the people of the day, blazing their lit torches on the earth. She hated them, these creatures of fire.

All, except one.

She turned, glancing at the sleeping figure on the rumpled up bed, evidence of their lovemaking a few hours ago. Her raven haired love. Here was a being that belonged to the harshness of the cold, but was subjugated to a life in a furnace. She felt rather than saw the rise and fall of his chest, his magic subdued for now. She sauntered back to him, suddenly tired of magnificence, and yearning for his broken beauty. Such strangeness. A child of the frost, here, in the realm of the light.

She caressed his cheek, colder than the touch of an Asgardian. She adored the feel of his magic. She, a primordial being older than this wretched realm, held power immeasurable. She burned with the strength of a thousand, thousand stars. But his was elegance. Subtle, but with undeniable power lying underneath. It was an art that he has made his own. She was proud to be called his teacher. Frigga had taught him well, but Frigga had grown soft from years of living in luxury. Frigga's lessons weren't enough for his hungry mind.

He stirred.

His eyes were bleary from sleep, but only for seconds. His gaze locked on hers, questioning, ever suspicious. She didn't mind, not one bit. It was intelligent of him to be suspicious, and she would rather train him than an idiot that trusted another being fully.

"It's just me, youngling. Just me."

He turned his body to face her fully, letting his head fall, lulled back onto the pillow. "I wished you'd stop calling me that, (Y/n). I'm not that young, and you know it." She pulled back the cover of the duvet and climbed in next to him, settling her head on his chest, listening intently to his heartbeat. _Thump. Thump. Thump._

"But, evidently, you are far younger than me, even if our bodies do not reflect it." She stroked his chest, disrupting its flow of life. He gasped, surprised, his pale skin giving way to azure. "…and much more fragile than you think, Silver tongue."

He sat up abruptly with his back to her, shoulders hunched, clearly annoyed with what she had done. Good. She loved his stinging tongue and its banters. "Do not-…never-…Just, don't do that. I have no liking of that form. It is not who I am."

"And I say it is. Learn to embrace it, and it will be yours."

"You do not understand."

She sat cross-legged next to him on the bed, eyes focused on the ceiling. "You're right, Trickster, I don't. You mortals and your petty insecurities. One of the many reasons why you people are flawed. If I had power, I wouldn't squander it off like some of the oafs on this realm. I would make it mine."

"Such meaningless words coming from the mouth of a creature of perfection. This body was made from the flesh of a monster! A creature so vile, mothers tell their children to scare them. There is nothing that can-"

She glared at him, her (e/c) eyes flaring at his words. "Speak ill of the Giants, and this is where our relationship stops. They are a fierce and proud race that was forced into exile by the wretchedness of Asgard, of that murderer on the golden throne. They do what they must to survive. They are my kin. My blood. And I do not take kindly to those that insult the fallen."

He flinched at her harsh words, and for the first time since he met her, fully feared her power. "I am sorry."

Her gaze softened as she looked at him. So much potential, so much power, but it was buried under a layer of insecurity because of the slanders that were fed to him since he was a babe. He could never go far if he held on to those misguided thoughts that these leeches had poisoned into him. She needed to find a way to help him.

There was one way. And she enjoyed that way.

"Do you remember what I have taught you? How magic could only be grasped by those who truly have the heart to understand it?"

"Of course." he smiled, recalling the golden evening that she saw him practice his sorcery.

"Well, power, in a sense, plays the same game. You need to truly understand it, embrace it as your own, for you to truly wield it. That's why those sword swinging imbecils out there cannot grasp it. Strength is power, they say. No. Understanding is power. I want you to understand yourself, Laufeyson."

"Don't call me that! That heartless monster casted me away because I was a runt. Left me for dead in a world lay wasted. He is no father of mine!"

She stood up from the bed. Placing a hand on his heaving chest, she stared into his eyes, locking his anger away. She cupped his chiselled face, kissing him soundly, letting her tongue find his. His initial surprise gave way to lust, her favourite emotion. Especially his lust. She lets her hand find his obsidian locks, pushing his head closer to hers, feeling his lashes on her cheeks. His lithe figure melded with hers, his arms finding their now familiar place on the small of her back, pulling her into the hollow of his hips. She felt alive with the feel of his skin on hers.

"Then, claim yourself, Loki Ownblood."

He attacked her lips with fervour, seeking her tongue, wrestling for dominance. She moaned, loving the feeling, but she knew something was missing. She pushed him away.

"Change."

He tried to stare her down, but signs of arousal were clearly there in his face. From flushed cheeks to heaving breaths, he was pure sin. But her will was absolute. If he wanted her, he better comply. Slowly, torturously, he lets his glamour go, leaving him in his birth body. Sapphire beauty clad with intertwining spirals all across his skin. Scarlet eyes that refused to look into hers. Mist with every breath that he took.

"Say what I say, Loki."

"Yes, mistress."

She lets her power envelope them both, energizing them with a heady brew. Their coupling will be most wonderful tonight. She traced the indents and curves of his skin, letting small waves of energy flow into him. Her tongue replaced her fingers, tasting the salty sweetness of him. She moved lower, giving him sharp bites on his hipbones as she stroked his skin. His hands were in her locks, ruining them with his lust. Her fingers ghosted over his arousal, stroking feather-light. She felt him shudder as his hands bawled into fists. She smiled.

"Listen to me, heart of my heart, and repeat. You are your own."

He looked up at her, scarlet eyes shining like polished rubies. Perfection and Lust were his makers. Loki's laboured breath slowed. "I am my own." She kissed him soundly, letting her tongue find his, letting them tangle. She sucked in every moan, every groan, and every syllable that he made as she stroked his already hard member. It was cool in her hands, but she didn't mind. As long as he was hers, she was content. She moved south, peppering him with kisses. She took him into her mouth, sucking and licking the member. She felt his pulse quicken and his magic erratic. She followed the protruding vein along his cock with her tongue, ending the path with swipes on the head, lapping at the salty, bitter pearly beads that formed. Loki's hips began to thrust in rhythm with her strokes. She hummed, letting the vibrations simulate him further.

"Enough of this teasing! I need you, (y/n)."

In one swift motion, he was on top of her, silencing her startled gasp with his mouth. "What a beautiful view. One only for my eyes."

"You flatter yourself, Trickster. I've had others." She couldn't resist taking a jab at his ego. Anger spurred him well in jousts such as this. His fiery temper led to many…interesting results before. At the mention of other lovers, his expression changed, biting on her bait. His long, ebony fingers thrusted at her moist opening, scissoring her open. "There will be no mention of others in this bed when I am with you. You are mine tonight", he snarled in rage, his pace quickening, his fingers curving in her burning flesh. Her nerves felt as if doused in fire. He was truly a magnificent lover. Maybe the best she has ever had.

"Then make me forget the others. Let me feel you, Loki. Come into me."

He shifted, moving to between her legs, marking her thighs with his teeth and tongue. He stroked her clit, making her arch off the bed. The devil knew that she was close, and he was milking every bit of her patience.

"Stop this madness and let me feel all of you."

He smirked. He had the nerve to _smirk_. "I was under the impression that you enjoyed this, ah, talented tongue of mine. Would you not want more of it?"

"There's another part of you that intrigues me tonight."

"Then say it."

"What?" The haze of pleasure was making it hard for her to think clearly.

"What do you want me to do, (y/n)."

"That should be obvious, shouldn't it?", she huffed.

"Yes, but I want you to say it."

She sighed. She wanted him terribly. Her pride can be damned to hell, for all she cares.

"F-Fuck me, Loki." She wasn't one to use cusses lightly, but for some reason, he loved to see her squirm with discomfort. Sadistic bastard.

"That's all I needed to hear, heart."

She screamed as she clawed at the cover when he entered her abruptly, filling her with his freezing member. The mix of hot and cold startled her initially, but she felt waves of pleasure ripple in her. His muscles flexed with his laboured breathing, a wave of chiselled blue. Loki moved, slow and long at first, letting her get accustomed to his girth. (y/n) clenched around him, leaving him breathless. His strokes turned animalistic, long, short, fast, slow, never letting her get accustomed to them.

She felt the coil in her abdomen tighten, knowing that she was on the edge of pleasure. And judging by the laboured breath and uncontrolled thrusts, so was he. "Lo-Loki, I'm close."

"So am I, love." His voice was broken, gruff with need and desire. Tousled hair, scarlet eyes, azure skin, she adored all of him. She came with a scream of his name, her world erupting in a flash of white. She felt him shudder once as he came, his hot semen filling her, burning her insides. He collapsed on top of her, his weight comforting. She held onto him, loving the feel of his skin against hers.

After a moment, he shifted off of her, his glamour on. Blue became white, red became green. What a shame. Loki pulled her closer to him, his front to her back. She was hit with a wave of tiredness. "I believe that you have succeeded in making me weary. Congratulations, my Lord. And, yes, you are the best of my lovers."

Loki kissed her neck, his breath tickling her ears.

"Love no other but me, my Queen."


End file.
